Japan Pyon!
by The Radioactive Muffin
Summary: One-shot. Mild MelloxMatt. Mello finds himself on the front cover of a famous Japanese magazine, Japan Pyon! Will Mello and Matt's friendship be able to endure a whirlwind of crazy events? Mild swearing. I do not own Death Note. Deal with it.


Click!

Mello picked up his pace, slightly disturbed by the odd sound emanating from behind him.

Click!

He hurried into an alleyway and weaved between toppled garbage cans, kicking them aside roughly to make a path.

Click!

Whipping around, he came face to face with a camera. It's large, black lens peered into his face. "What the—"

Click!

A blinding light flashed directly in Mello's eyes, and he immediately lashed out and knocked the camera away.

"Hey, what was that for?" A deep voice exclaimed. Mello ignored his cries and rubbed his eyes vigorously. Dark circles spotted his vision.

"You're lucky I'm nice and feel like doing you a favor."

Mello stopped rubbing his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

Nobody answered.

Mello spoke louder. "What are you talking about? How are you doing me a favor?"

By the time Mello's vision had returned, the man was long gone.

"Damn him." Mello said, shrugging off the event. He did not remember it again until several days later…

* * *

"Oh my god! It's her!"

Mello ignored these calls, taking another bite of his precious chocolate. Beside him, Matt puffed on a cigarette.

"How annoying." Matt growled, commenting on the creaming girl. A group of her friends had gathered alongside the female, all whispering and making loud exclamations at random. "Can't they find something better to do than fawn over some random woman?"

Mello almost chuckled. Almost.

"They're teenagers hanging around outside a mall. Of course they have nothing better to do."

Matt nodded. As he opened his mouth to speak, another loud scream tore through the air. Before Matt could make any obscene actions, Mello took his wrist and dragged him into the mall.

The duo received many astonished stares as they passed, which baffled Mello slightly. Yes, his leather outfit sometimes received unwanted attention, but there were much odder sights to behold and most people simply ignored the strange youth.

"There she is!"

A hoard of girls came stampeding over to where Mello stood, circling around him and his partner.

"Get them!" Somebody commanded.

Mello and Matt set off into a sprint, pushing away dazed shoppers as they passed.

"I don't know who they think they're chasing, but they're definitely crazy!" Matt yelled.

Mello searched his brain for a place that none of the girls would go, something that would act as an invisible barrier between them and the rabid girls…

He glared back and noticed something immediately; all of the females chasing him were quite, well, preppy.

Hot Topic!

Mello skidded to a halt, jerking Matt backwards and almost dislocating his shoulder. Before Matt could complain, Mello pointed to the store in question.

Casually, they both walked through the high archway leading into Hot Topic. A few people praised Mello's outfit, then went on their way. Matt checked out the wristbands, whereas Mello gravitated toward the pants.

A large crowd of teenagers gathered around Hot Topic, all looking slightly nervous. Obviously, the mental barrier of going into such a place was enough to keep them away. However, Mello knew that they would overcome their fears soon enough.

The first girl to enter the store was rather petite and looked to be around twelve years old. In her hands were a magazine and pen. Trembling slightly, she walked up to Mello and asked, "Will you sign this for me, please? I'm a huge fan of yours and I would really appreciate it."

Mello stared at the girl with a dumbfounded expression, then snatched the magazine and began scanning it. On the front cover was a picture of him, his hair whipping around his face, which had a seductive expression.

"When was this…?"

Then Mello remembered the man in the alleyway and his fetish with taking pictures of the boy. Glancing over the magazine, it also appeared that they had mistaken him for a girl.

Hastily signing the magazine, Mello shoved it back into the girl's grateful hands and darted over to Matt. His expression mimicked Mello's.

"What the hell is going on?" Matt whispered, eyeing the crowd and then glancing at the magazine in each of their hands.

"Like I have any clue. They seem to think I'm a girl."

"Yeah, I could have guessed." Matt peered into Mello's eyes. "You realize what you're going to have to do, right?"

Mello groaned.

"You're serious? Can't I—"

"Nope. You're going to have to sign every one of those magazines."

Matt picked up a pen from the counter.

"Good luck."

* * *

"Matt, I hate you."

"…"

"Matt!"

"…"

"Matt, get off your DS! I'm talking to you!"

"…Did you say something?"

Mello slammed his hand on the car steering wheel. The vehicle swerved violently.

Matt finally gave his attention to Mello, though his look was quite stale.

"Why didn't you tell me about the whole modeling business? You know, I would have accepted that just fine. Did you believe that I'd be jealous of you? I'm not."

Mello sighed.

"This creepy guy was stalking me and decided to take a few pictures. That's all that happened."

"You do realize that you'll probably get a modeling contract or something from this. These people will find out that you're a male at some point, and then what?"

Matt finished conveying his worries breathlessly. Mello did not more for several moments, blankly staring at the road ahead. Then it clicked.

"We can't let everybody find out for themselves. I have to publicly announce that there was a mistake and that I'm really a guy. For a couple of days things will be a little crazy, but they should wind down soon after."

Matt contemplated in silence, his cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth. He brought his hand up and took a long, slow drag.

"Whatever. It's not my ass we're putting on the line."

"How true." Mello said sourly.

* * *

A large crowd of females gathered around an even larger stage, the atmosphere tense. Nobody breathed for fear of missing their favorite model's words.

"I'm going to be blunt and get right to the point." Mello began. "I'm a guy. There was some sort of mistake. Sorry, and goodbye."

Not a single word was spoken.

……….

……….

……….

"Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhh! So cuuuuuuuuuuute!"

Girls began squealing and hugging each other. Nobody seemed mad or disappointed at all. Cameras began flashing and microphones were shoved into Mello's face.

"Where is Matt when I need him? He's probably playing his stupid DS or something. What a twit." Mello muttered.

Somebody grabbed Mello's foot, scaring him half to death. Another grabbed at his pants, and a third person jumped onto the stage.

"Come on, Matt!"

An arm wrapped around Mello's waist and quickly led him offstage. He caught a glance at his captor and was relieved to see Matt.

"You were almost too late. That crowd looked like they were about to molest me. Couldn't you have tried to come a little earlier?" Mello complained.

"You're lucky I even came. You don't know how close I was to ditching you and going to a less crowded place."

Mello grunted, unwilling to let up any ground.

Matt led him to a motorcycle and tossed Mello a helmet. "I'd better drive." Matt said offhandedly. "You know, to make the kidnapping look for realistic."

"Sure." Mello said, shoving the helmet onto his head. He could feel the ends of his hair sticking out of the bottom of his helmet, tickling his neck. He swiped it out of the way and climbed onto the motorcycle. Smoke from the end of Matt's cigarette blew into Mello's face. He pulled the visor down and Matt started up the engine.

"Don't fall off." He said sarcastically. Mello's fists tightened slightly and he almost considered jumping off of the bike. However, as soon as he remembered the fan girls he changed his mind. 'I'd rather deal with Matt's driving any day than be assaulted by THEM.' Mello though. He shuddered.

The bike roared, tires spinning furiously against dry pavement. The smell of burned rubber leaked through Mello's helmet, but was soon swept away in the wind.

Matt weaved between light traffic, dodging car accidents like feathers. Matt glanced at the speedometer; they were approaching 130 kilometers per hour.

A police car swerved onto the road, closely pursuing the motorcycle.

"F***" Matt swore. "I didn't expect them to catch us this quickly." Mello heard an odd noise coming from above them and peered into the distant sky. His heart almost stopped as he spotted a helicopter rapidly approaching.

"Matt," Mello stated calmly, "we need to get underground. Now." He followed the boy's word without question, cutting into an alleyway.

"Is a building good enough for you?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

Matt slowed down considerably and pulled into a garage. It was dark and damp, appearing to have not seen human life in many years.

He turned off the bike and they were completely without light.

"I think we'll be okay in there." Matt whispered. Mello nodded once, then realized that he could not be seen. "Yeah, I think so—"

The door burst open and light flooded into the area.

"Put your hands in the air and step away—"

"He's not doing me any harm." Mello interrupted. "I told him to come because I was being assaulted by fans. I apologize if you interpreted this differently. You can leave now."

The policeman hesitated for a moment, looking unconvinced.

"I'm fine." Mello added forcefully, looking the officer in the eye.

The man slowly backed away, and then the two boys were once again plunged into darkness. Matt lit another cigarette and casually leaned against the wall.

"Let's wait a few more minutes. I want to make sure that the police have dispersed before we head out again."

Mello watched Matt smoke his cigarette in silence, then pulled out a bar of chocolate and proceeded to finish it off.

The pair finished their tasks at the same time. Mello stuffed his chocolate wrapper into his pocket while Matt ground his cigarette remains beneath his foot. They climbed onto the motorcycle, Mello seated behind Matt. The latter pulled out a set of keys and pushed a button. The garage door opened, and Matt accelerated…

---Seven Hours Later---

"Is Matt okay?" Mello asked, only making half an attempt to conceal his concern.

The officer nodded. "He should recover quite fast. I'm sorry for causing this much chaos. I thought that he might have forced you to pretend that everything was alright."

Mello almost attacked the man. 'He shot Matt because of a dumb suspicion. I cannot believe the stupidity of the Japanese Police Force.'

After asking several times, a kind woman was able to give Mello decent instructions to Matt's hospital room. He dashed away without thanking her, and in the distance he could hear her whispered protests about 'teenagers these days'.

When Mello finally reached the door, he all but tore it off the hinges in attempt to open the stubborn piece of wood, vowing to make sure not a single door in his sight would ever get rusty. His actions did not wake Matt, who slept serenely on the hospital bed.

Mello crossed the distanc between them in a single stride, sitting down on a chair by Matt's bedsde and nervously fumbling with the crisp sheets. Though Matt appeared healthy at first glance, Mello saw that his pale cheeks had turned almost deathly white. 'That's most likely from the blood loss.' Mello though grimly. Matt's arm hung limply on the bed, bandaged until it was at least an inch thicker than normal. Mello ran a finger up and down the injured limb.

"You should recover soon. I'm sure that your injury won't affect you in the future. Just be patient, okay?" Mello said, almost laughin at the irony. Him, telling Matt to be patient? It was usually the other way around. Still, despite the irony, Matt did not repond.

'Of course he wouldn't say anything, you dumb***. He's asleep.' Mello shook his head, impatient with himself.

Several nurses gathered at the door, watching Mello hover over Matt's sleeping form. One pulled out a magazine, Japan Pyon!, and glanced between the front cover and Mello. She furiously whispered to her fellow admirers, and they too began analyzing the photograph. Mello sent them a harsh glare and they quickly shut the door.

"Women." He said dully. "That's why I've never had a relationship with one. Too complicated, and they ogle over irrelevant things." Mello sighed deeply. "However, I have a feeling that many of that gender will continue to follow me. I swear, I'll kill the man who took that photo of me. At least I managed to break his camera before he escaped..."

Mello continued to grumble, rambling on about the "Inconvenience of this situation" and how he would "kill to have people leave me alone".

Matt twitched in annoyance, rolling over to face the direction opposite of Mello. He mubled something in his sleep, something that sounded suspiciously like "shut the hell up and eat your goddamn chocolate, Mello".

An anime tick mark appeared on the side of Mello's face, and he almost gave Matt the noogie of a lifetime. However, he refrained, not wanting revenge enough to hurt his friend any further.

A doctor soon appeared--a male, thankfully--to check Matt's status. He checked the boy's temperature, then plotted it on an intricate line graph of ups and downs. He proceeded to write down a few notes in nearly illegible handwriting. The man glanced at Mello.

"Are you a relative of," He checked the paper, "Matt?"

Mello shook his head. "No, only a close friend." He did not mention that they had both grown up in the same orphanage.

"So you might be able to explain to me why his body is about ready to shut down, then."

Mello gaped in shock, but his surprise immediately turned into suspicion.

"That's impossible." Mello said, eyes slitted in anger. The doctor sighed.

"No, it's not impossible. Here before me is a boy who, though he is currently stable, sits in a precarious position. How much medication should we give him? If sedated, will he wake up? His lungs look like they've been set on fire," Mello cringed at this, "and he may lose the ability to breathe on his own. Plus, his shoulder has been injured from a gun wound. Normally this would not prove fatal. However, in his condition it can prove fatal. I did not tell the nurses or officer because I knew that word would travel back to you. Now, however, I consider this piece of information vital."

Mello turned on his heel and left the hospital room, not bothering to look back at the sleeping boy.

* * *

---Five Years Later---

Mello's face was posted on every street corner and magazine cover, a dominating star in the Japanese modeling industry. He reigned over the field with his lovely face and a few well-placed threats. All of this was a futile attempt to forget the one perso who he loved, and who was probably dead.

Over time, Mello convinced hiself that Matt had long ago passed away. He still retained a small piece of him that hoped, but he would immediately squash it to bits when he found himself kindling it.

All in all, Mello despised himself. Feelings of desair and guilt rebounded in his mind, duplicating until he could no longer understand the meaning of happiness. Life held only a bleak and empy future for the boy, and at times he forgot why he bothered living at all. Of course then he would remember that he was living life for Matt, and could not bear the kill his friend a second time. So, he grimly continued his forward march and awaited his fate.

If only he'd noticed the signs sooner...

* * *

The telephone rang, sending an ominous echo through Mello's empty apartment. It reminded him yet again of Matt's absence.

"I'd better answer that." Mello muttered to himself, peeling his body off of the cold couch and wearily trudging to the kitchen. A phone hung on the wall, and a little light blinked furiously. It was almost like... a warning.

Mello hesitated at the entryway, troubled by his connection between the light and danger. Perhaps the call could wait until later.

On the last ring, Mello snatched the phone from its cradle and pressed the call button. He waied for the person on the other line to speak.

"Mello, is this you? It's Matt."

Mello froze, stunned.

"Mello... Mello? Crap, did I call the wrong number? I'm sorry for bothering you--"

"Matt is dead." Mello interrupted dully. "You cannot be Matt. That's impossible." Only a sligh static responded to Mello's demand.

"Unlock your apartment door, Mello. It's cold out here, and we need to talk." The line went dead.

Mello listened to the monotone phone dial for a moment, then pressed the end button. He slowly replaced the phone into its charging cradle.

Somebody banged on the door. "Mello, let me in here. I'm freezing my a** off, and my thumbs are so numb I can't try out my new Mario Kart game. I hear there's an exclusive level that you can only reach by getting perfect scored on all of the previous levels. Isn't that great--"

Mello swung open the door to face Matt's smirk."Can I come in, or am I banned from my own home?"

Mello speechlessly wdened the door opening, a wordless invitation to enter. Matt took up the offer without a second thought and slid inside.

"This place hasn't changed in the last five years, has it? Hey, is that one of my video games? Just where I left it. Wow!" Matt crossed the living room to a small coffee table. It was perched beside a thick chair, and a stream of light came from a window near it. Mello knew that this was Matt's favorite spotto play video games, besides the couch.

Matt plucked the video game from atop the table, eyeing it like a long lost friend

"Where were you?"

Matt froze and did not respond. For a long minute, Mello did not think that Matt would answer his question. Then, finally, the boy sighed in defeat.

"I guess I'll have to start from the beginning..."

* * *

Mello awoke with a start, shoving the overs off of his body and sitting rigidly.

"That was the weirdest dream... ever..." He said, then gratefully returned to his innocent sleep.


End file.
